Those You've Known
by SpyKid18
Summary: Five years after graduating from Yale, Rory is working as a reporter at The New York Times. She's asked to interview the creator of a hot new phone app, who just happens to be the boy who broke her heart all those years ago. ROGAN
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It's been so long since I've written Gilmore Girls. This is a new idea I got actually from a wedding announcement in the NY Times. It sounded SO MUCH like Rogan. So, I wrote it up!**

Chapter One

Rory sat at her desk, idling going through her email as she avoided the article due by the close of business. She hated getting writer's block. It always felt like a complete time suck, particularly since writing was her job. The New York Times didn't hire her to stare at a blank word document. But that's all she had. Well, she had a headline, which would undoubtedly change once she finished the story. Her journalism professors back at Yale always taught students to draft the headline last.

"Your story writes the headline, not you!" her one professor was apt to bark, particularly after returning a crop of assignments.

Rory rarely rebelled, her brief dalliance with stealing yachts taught her she didn't have the stomach for it, but she always drafted the headline first. It didn't matter that professors with years of experience found it ill advised, nor that she almost always ended up changing it. The words really didn't matter; it was an active start. It oiled the oftentimes rusty cogs of her creativity, helping her fingers tap out letters on the keyboard.

But not today. No, today was one of those days where even the extra caramel macchiato with the _extra_ shot of espresso wouldn't get her fingers moving. She tried everything, even resorting to free writing – an exercise she hated back during school. All that resulted in was an entire page of gibberish, half of which didn't even relate to her story.

She slumped in her chair, opening the top drawer and pulling out a bag of red vines. She'd tried to cut back on sugar a few weeks back, but had failed miserably. Whatever health benefits it may have extolled did not nearly make up for that three o'clock sugar rush with which she was so accustomed. One of her coworkers suggested she eat fruit instead. Lorelai laughed for a solid five minutes when Rory told her that.

Three red vines in, and several articles on Buzzfeed later – for mental stimulation, of course – Rory heard the telltale ping of her email. She hesitated, nervous it would be her editor asking about the article. It wouldn't be unexpected. She usually had her articles turned in well before deadline. Now she was working with just under two hours. Instead, she saw it was an email from a name she didn't recognize. The subject line read: DD Interview.

Curious, Rory clicked on the email. Within the first sentence, Rory recognized it as a PR pitch. She almost trashed it, but the pitch was interesting, so she read on. It was for a new app called Designated Dialer, which allowed a person to lock their phone before they went out drinking. When they tried to call certain numbers, a sobriety test would be administered. If they passed, the number would go through. If they did not, the call would not go through.

"I know a few people who could use this," Rory murmured, continuing to read through.

The pitch went on to cite impressive statistics for downloads, and several links to coverage in notable trade magazines and blogs. Ultimately, what it wanted was for The New York Times to interview one of Designated Dialer's creators. Namely, Logan Huntzberger.

She stared at the name at the bottom of the email, feeling her entire body tingle like right before you throw up. She quickly deleted the email, jamming her finger down on the delete key so hard that it hurt.

Logan Huntzberger. She hadn't seen him since her graduation. Not since he proposed, she said not right now, and he walked away. She could still feel the heavy weight in her stomach. The disbelief and hurt as she watched the man she loved give up on her. Give up on them. That was the last time she saw him.

She didn't have time for this now. Another half hour passed without her even noticing, and now she only had an hour and a half to get this damn article written. She didn't cover tech stuff anymore, anyway. That had only been when she started at the Times. They needed a tech reporter, and she was willing to do just about anything to get her byline in that paper. But now she was covering politics and foreign affairs, where she always wanted to be. She'd forward it to someone. Tomorrow. She'd forward it to someone tomorrow.

BBBBB

Rory barely finished her article in time, but she was able to put together a barebones first edit to send to her editor right before five o'clock. She knew it wasn't her best, but it was something to work with. Food was typically pretty scarce in her apartment, and she stopped at Whole Foods and picked up a selection of things from the hot bar to last for the week. The bill ended up being almost as much as her paycheck for the month, but at least she wouldn't have to cook.

She took the subway over to her Brooklyn apartment, trying to not notice the rancid smelling man sitting next to her. Finally she was home, and she turned her key in her door, walking in to the overpowering smell of glue.

"Hi Paris," Rory said, stepping in and heading toward the kitchen. She eyed the craft table – ironically enough, the same one from their dorm back at Yale – and noticed there were several more little pots and containers there than the day prior. Paris took up making her own lotions and scrubs after Terrence – who was still her life coach – suggested using her hands in such a way would help her come down from the stress of her internship over at the local hospital. Rory didn't really understand why doing something with your hands would help unwind after a whole day of using said hands, but it seemed to work for Paris.

"I made some lavender epsom salt scrub. You have to try it. It smells so good I was practically huffing it."

Rory began to put the food away and mused, "Can you huff things with salt in it? I feel like that would hurt."

"It would definitely cause nose bleeds. We saw that today, actually. Well, not snorting salt, but someone was snorting nutmeg. Apparently it's the new drug of choice. How stupid are kids these days? We would have never done anything like that."

"We were into the good, well-established drugs," Rory returned.

"That's not what I mean," Paris said. "But…you know what I mean."

"Yes," Rory said placatingly, walking over to the table with her plate of food. "I do. So, I had an interesting email at work today."

"Is this really interesting? Or just interesting to you?"

"It's really interesting," Rory said, mildly offended.

"Because last week you said you had an a really great story. And it was about someone using a semi-colon incorrectly instead of a period."

"Someone pitched me to interview Logan," Rory said, letting the story speak for itself. Paris's eyes widened, and she said, "Wait, your Logan?"

"He's not mine," Rory said uncomfortably.

"He was for a long time," Paris pointed out. "But, Huntzberger? Really? What has he gotten himself into this time? Transvestite prostitute?"

"No, it's for my old tech beat," Rory said. "His PR team must not have an updated media list. He created a new app. It's actually gotten a significant amount of buzz."

"Wow, what is it?"

Rory told her all about it, and Paris snidely returned, "Of course he'd come up with a drinking app. So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I'll probably just send it on to our tech guys. I don't do that work anymore."

"Come on, you can't give this to someone else. This is your chance."

"My chance to what?"

"To show him how good you're doing," Paris urged. "Your byline is in the New York Times. You have arguably the best haircut of your twenty-seven years of living. And, you're dating a hedge fund manager."

Rob. Rory had forgotten about Rob. Her boyfriend of six-months who very much should have come to mind when her ex-boyfriend suddenly popped back into her life, but hadn't.

"It's not my beat anymore. I don't even know if they'd let me write it."

"Then ask. Come on, you wrote there for two years. You covered every boring, insignificant iPhone update. They owe you this."

They didn't owe Rory anything, but she couldn't help but be intrigued by the idea. Her old editor there liked her a lot, and had been markedly disappointed when she left the tech wing for political affairs. He'd probably take her back with open arms, if even just for one piece.

"I guess it can't hurt to ask."

"You haven't seen him since graduation, right?" Paris asked.

Rory shook her head. "No, not since then."

"That has to be so weird. To go all this time without hearing from someone, and suddenly their name pops up in your inbox."

Rory swallowed hard, nodding. Yes, it was strange. But, a bit less strange since she had heard from him since graduation. It was only a message on her work phone. Exactly three minutes and twenty seven seconds. No one knew. Not Paris. Not even Lorelai. She'd been too ashamed of what she did after.

Three minutes and twenty seven seconds. It was such a small amount of time, but he managed to say so much. She remembered it was winter, and she'd just settled into her new position at the Times. She was still new enough that seeing messages flashing on her phone gave her more excitement than consternation. She'd pressed the button, expecting to hear her editor's voice, when Logan's came out of the small speaker. She nearly knocked over her coffee.

"Rory, hi. It's Logan. Logan Huntzberger. You probably didn't need my last name. Anyway, I wanted to call and congratulate you on your new job. I always knew you were meant for the big leagues. I'm so proud of you. Anyway, that's why I'm calling. To say congratulations. I tried your cellphone, but you must have a new number or something. So, that's all. I just..." there was a long stretch of silence, "…look, what I'm about to say I probably shouldn't say on a machine, but I don't know if I'll get another chance to say it, so I'm just going to. I shouldn't have walked away. You waited for me that year I was in London, and all you were asking for was that I do the same for you. I should have waited. I should have listened, and heard what you were trying to say. But I was too stubborn. I had it in my head that we wouldn't work if we had to do long distance again. But, we could have. We _would_ have, and I wouldn't be leaving this fucking message on your machine. I'm sorry that I did that you. I'm sorry that I did that to us. I regret it every day…and...Anyway, I'm going to be in New York next month. I'd really like to see you. Even if we can't get a dinner, maybe just coffee sometime. I've really missed you. So, my number's still the same. Give me call. Bye Ace."

She played the message three more times before deleting it. She never called. Part of it was due to her schedule, but an even larger part was her pride. He hadn't wanted to be a part of her life before. What gave him the right to barge back in? The next month came and went, and there were no more personal messages on her voicemail. Life returned to normal. She worked her way up the tech beat food chain over the years, until she finally had the opportunity to parlay her way into political affairs. She met her hedge fund manager. Her life shaped up in every way imaginable, and this was all because she'd said no. She'd be a bored housewife in San Francisco otherwise, tending to her avocado plant and writing for papers she didn't believe in. Her new life served as vindication. It was something she could point out to her future grandchildren and tell them, "This is what logical and reasoned decisions lead you to."

"If you get the story, I expect insider knowledge," Paris said, pulling Rory back to the present inside their rent-controlled apartment.

"Of course."

"Maybe a stalker photo on your phone," Paris suggested. "I want to see if he got fat."

"Why would he have gotten fat?"

"I don't know. A lot of guys do. Remember Chip Harrington from Feminist Lit? He looks like he's ready for the professional eating route."

"I doubt he got fat."

"I don't know. He did like to drink. That adds up when you're over twenty five."

"It doesn't really matter either way. The story is about his app, not his weight."

Rory stood up and brought her plate over to the sink. Behind her, Paris called out, "If he got fat, I definitely want a picture!"

BBBBB

Rory asked her old editor, Gary, the next morning if she could take on the story, and he agreed immediately after hearing that her and Logan were old friends.

"Definitely, Gilmore. You'll be able to get more good stuff from him. Email his PR guy back, and tell them we'll take the story."

Rory went back to her desk and fished the email out of her delete box. She typed a quick reply with a time and place to meet and then sent it out. Her inbox dinged with the response only a few minutes later.

 _RE: DD Interview_

 _Great! I'll pass this along to Logan._

And just like that, four years late, her and Logan were getting together for that coffee.

BBBBB

She was nervous. Her focus hit an all time low during the day as she counted down the hours, minutes, seconds until their coffee, and then New York decided to be windy, and she walked over toward the nearest Starbucks where she'd set the interview, swearing as her skirt danced around her legs. When she stepped inside the coffee shop she looked down at her skirt and saw the deep creases. She hated this skirt. Why did she even own this fucking skirt?

Someone walked in behind her, and displayed some New York charm as he muttered, "Move your ass, lady."

She stumbled forward, looking around furtively to see if he'd arrived yet. He hadn't. She got in line and anxiously pulled at the bottom of her shirt. Coffee would be good. It would calm her nerves, hopefully enough so she could write without her hand shaking. She didn't want him to see her like this. Didn't want him to know that he still affected her.

She ordered a large coffee – or _venti_ , she still ordered it as a plain large like at Luke's – and gratefully took it with one trembling hand. This was ridiculous. She wasn't here on a date. She was interviewing him for her paper, for goodness sake. She was in control.

A table in the back corner opened and she hurried over, knowing from experience that the acoustics would be perfect for a casual conversation. She settled on one of the seats and pulled her notebook and pen out of her bag. Most people typed interviews on their computers, or iPads for the particularly tech savvy, but she always preferred pen and paper.

She felt him before she saw him. Something in the air shifted, and when she glanced over her shoulder there he was, looking almost exactly the same as he did five years prior. When he walked into the light she noticed perhaps a few more angles to his face, a broadening of his shoulders, but it was still Logan. Her legs pulled her up into standing without any input from the rest of her.

"Logan, hi."

He smiled shyly, such a foreign look on his typically mischievous face. "Hi Rory."

Rory. Not Ace.

She stepped forward, instigating the hug. His arms were hesitant to go around her, but once they did it felt perfectly natural. She pulled away first, hoping her cheeks weren't stained pink, but knowing they were.

"It's nice to see you again," she said.

"You too. I was actually surprised to see you were interviewing me."

She blanched, thinking he was referring to that very long, very soul-baring message she'd never returned. "You were?"

"Yeah, you haven't covered tech in a while."

"Oh, no," she said, relief spreading in her chest. "I moved sections."

"I know. I always found it a little ironic that the most technologically illiterate person I knew was writing about tech startups and smartphone politics."

"You go where the stories are," she returned.

"You didn't do a half bad job."

"Well, thank you. It took a bit more work than the others, but I got a grasp on most things eventually. Although I still don't totally get the cloud. I've had many people explain it to me – very, very smart people – but…" she made a sort of 'poof' gesture with her hand, "…not happening."

"I'd offer my services, but I'm a bit hazy on the cloud, myself."

She grinned. "I appreciate the offer of an offer."

It was so easy, falling back into the old banter. She thought it would be uncomfortable, what with the unanswered message and the years, so many years, but it wasn't. She had to remind herself that she had a job to do, and while small talk was important, there was a point she had to work her way to.

"So, Designated Dialer. How did that come about?"

He shifted in his seat. She realized then that he didn't have a coffee, but it was a bit too late to tell him he could get one.

"Do you remember Finn?" he asked.

"Of course I do. You never forget someone who throws a Quentin Tarintino party."

Logan grinned. "Okay then. Well, Finn had a bad habit of drunkenly calling all of the girls he'd slept with, promised to call, and then wouldn't. Naturally, these women would get very angry when the handsome Australian who left them high and dry three months prior called them at two in the morning."

"I can't imagine why."

"So, I was working at GenTech at the time. We did a lot of work with –"

"Smartphone software," Rory interjected. He looked surprised and she said, "I wrote about them back when they were a startup."

He nodded appreciatively. "Right. Well, I was there and I worked with this guy who was always tinkering with the software. Part of it was for work, the other part for fun. I told him about Finn, and how great it would be if there was some way you could lock your phone for certain numbers when you went out. Those conversations turned into actual software plans. Then business plans. And, here we are."

"So, it all started because of Finn," she said, smiling a bit.

"It all started because of Finn."

Rory scrawled something quickly into her notebook, and then the interview continued. She asked about the specifics of the software, and how expansively they planned to market the app. Gradually the shoptalk wound down, and they started talking just about themselves.

"How long are you in New York?" Rory asked, picking up her coffee.

"The plan right now is indefinitely," Logan said, making her nearly choke on her coffee. "I just signed a lease last week."

"You moved here?" she asked.

"Yeah, I didn't like San Francisco that much. Too many seagulls. Too much rain. All the sports teams suck."

"So, you're here," she said, more to herself than to him. "In New York."

"Yeah, that's the general plan."

Without thinking she blurted out, "I have a boyfriend."

He cleared his throat, somewhat uncomfortably, and said, "I think that's great."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I don't know why I said that. I just…I do. His name's Rob. He's very nice."

"I'm glad."

He looked to the side, and she saw it. The voicemail. It hung between them like some illusive, voicemail-elephant in the room, but she couldn't bring it up. Every excuse she had for not calling back seemed cheap and flimsy with him sitting across from her. For a moment, while they were talking, she almost thought he forgot about it. He didn't remember the three minute and twenty seven second voicemail where he was more open and raw than all of the three years they dated.

Of course he did.

"Well, I should get back to work," she said. It was the coward's way out, and she knew it.

"Okay. If you need anything else, just let me know. My number's the same. I'm guessing you still have it?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. "I still have it."

"Great. Give me a call if you need anything else."

He got up first and held out his hand. A handshake felt so formal, but she happily took it. She didn't think she could take a hug right now. He walked out, and she watched him go. Maybe he'd create an app next to stop sober thoughts from calling on old boyfriends. That would be nice.

A/N: Designated Dialer is an actual app and I did not come up with it! So, please do not sue me! If you want more, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So happy to see there is still an interest in this fandom! Hope you enjoy this!**

Chapter Two

Rory stood in the grocery line at Whole Foods, wondering how whenever she went there, regardless of the time of day, the line was at least ten people deep. Weren't there other grocery stores in the city? The lines moved slowly, too, the cashiers never quite catching on to what strange vegetables and fruits lingered in the produce aisle. Her line inched forward the slightest bit, and Rory rolled her cart forward, stopping just before rolling up on the heels of the woman in front of her. Taking in her spiked hair and leather boots, Rory didn't think the woman would have taken the accidental heel-nipping particularly well.

"Rory?"

She recognized the voice without much effort. Logan. Of course it was Logan. And of course she was dressed in one of her rattiest Yale sweatshirts, the collar barely held together with thin strands of thread among the many holes. He'd bought her the sweatshirt after she'd made an announcement that she was swearing off the campus bookstore, proclaiming that despite the strange – his word, not hers – joy she got from campus apparel, she'd spent enough at the bookstore. The next day when they met for lunch he gave her one of the sweatshirts she didn't have yet from the bookstore, telling her that she should never deny herself the simple, albeit strange, joys in life.

She wondered if he remembered. If he did, the recognition didn't show. He glanced at the sweatshirt, and then up at her face.

"I wouldn't take you as a Whole Foods type," he said.

"It's so pervasive down here that it's captured even the likes of me," Rory returned glibly. "Never underestimate the power of five dollar rotisserie chickens."

He chuckled. "I never will again. Hold on, do you have kale in there?"

His gaze was over her shoulder, in the contents of her grocery cart.

"Yes," Rory said, somewhat defensively. "What's wrong with kale?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you eat something green that didn't come out of a candy bag. You even used to tell the waiters to leave the garnish off your plate."

"I don't see the point of garnish," Rory held. "You know they spend money on it, and it just sits there."

"I'm just surprised. Apparently a lot has changed in five years."

"If it makes you feel better I have an entire drawer just filled with chocolate at home," she told him. The line moved in front of her, and she rolled her cart forward the few inches. Glancing back she tossed off, "And at least three types of potato chips at a time."

"Three types?"

"Potato chip pairings are very important," she told him. "It can make or break a meal."

He considered that for a moment and then asked, "Steak dinner. What chips go with that?"

"I'd probably go with a kettle chip," Rory said after mulling over the question for a good bit. "I think it could rise to the occasion."

Logan laughed. "You know, that does make me feel better."

"I'm glad."

"So, how's the article going? I haven't heard from you, so I assume it's going okay."

"It is. I actually just sent it in to my editor last night for a first edit. Barring some printing catastrophe, it should be in this Sunday's paper."

"Well, I look forward to reading it. If you wrote it I'm sure it'll be great."

"Thank you."

She stepped forward with the line. The piece ended up being one of the quickest she'd written in ages. Maybe it was because it was him, or her brief bout of writer's block set her fingers ablaze, but it practically wrote itself. While before she'd had trouble coming up with even a decent sentence, they practically flowed from her fingers. The first draft took less than twenty minutes to write.

"How are you liking New York?" she asked. There were maybe four or five people left in front of her. Surprisingly, this meant the line was going fast.

"I like it. I actually went here pretty often during my first two years at Yale. The guys and I liked to come here on the weekends."

She smirked. "I bet you did."

He defended himself lightly with, "Hey, it was nothing but good clean fun. Most of the time. The other times it usually was because of Finn."

She nodded slowly and said, "That sounds about right."

"How are you liking it? You seem to be fitting in well."

She smiled a bit and said, "You know, it's weird, I would have thought I wouldn't like it. Being from such a small town. But I think that's why I like it. I like the anonymity. Don't get me wrong, I still love Stars Hollow. It's my home and always will be, but it's nice to walk down the street without being recognized."

"I can see that."

"I do miss Luke's coffee, though," Rory said. "And the cheeseburgers. Oh, and the double chocolate ice cream at Taylor's soda shoppe."

Logan smirked. "Sounds like you need to go back soon."

"I do," Rory admitted. "It's just so easy to lose time here. You say you'll go home soon, and suddenly it's an entirely different season."

"I know what you mean," Logan said. "Although I don't really have much family to visit. Honor and Josh live a few blocks from my new place."

He didn't mention his parents and Rory didn't ask. They'd always been somewhat on the outs, but she'd hoped they could patch things up at some point. Clearly, that hadn't happened yet.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Rory turned back to the front, surprised to see that all the people in front of her were gone. She stepped forward clumsily, ramming her cart into the side of the conveyor belt.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't notice them move."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry for being so distracting," Logan said behind her.

"Oh, you're fine. I wasn't paying attention."

She quickly unloaded her cart and then reached down into her purse to grab her wallet. She blanched when her hand grasped at nothing but air. She opened the purse wider and peeked inside. Her wallet was nowhere to be found, and she had a sudden flash of memory where she'd shoved it to the side of her desk after a midday coffee run.

"Shit," she murmured.

"Alright, your total is $37.52," the cashier said.

"Um, I forgot my wallet at work," Rory said, her cheeks staining pink. "Is there anyway you could hold the transaction or something? My office is only a block away."

She heard some disgruntled murmurs behind her.

"I'm sorry, but we can't do that."

"I got it," Logan said, taking out his wallet and pulling out a crisp bill. Rory shook her head and said, "No, it's fine. I'll just come back. I'll put the cart somewhere I can find it."

"And wait in this line again? Don't be ridiculous."

"But-"

"Here, take this," Logan said to the cashier, reaching in front of Rory with a fifty dollar bill between his fingers.

"I'll pay you back," Rory promised.

"Don't worry about it. It's only thirty something dollars."

"Yes, it's thirty something dollars," she said. She thought of another time he'd come to her rescue at a cashier and murmured, "This isn't a cup of coffee. I'll run to my office."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "I'll come with you. I've always wanted to see what the hallowed halls of the New York Times looked like."

Rory nodded. "Okay, sure."

She stepped back with her bags, waiting for the cashier to ring up his bill. He only had a few items, and then they were walking down the street toward her office. About halfway there he asked if he could carry her bag, and a quarter of the way she let him. They walked in the building and Rory swiped in with her ID.

"You did that with so much authority," he joked.

"They have an entire seminar on swiping in with authority. They take it very seriously."

He laughed, following her onto the elevator. The doors slid shut and she stared at their reflection. They fell silent as the elevator rode up to the twenty first floor.

"Thank you again for covering my bill in there," she said, still staring straight ahead. "I appreciate it."

"It's not a big deal. Besides, you're paying me back."

"Well, thanks anyway."

"You're welcome. Someone had to save you from the angry yoga instructors behind us."

The door opened and Rory walked out, turning almost immediately to make the long way down to her particular cubicle. She remembered a time that a cubicle seemed glamorous. Now it was more of a geometric hell.

"Here we are," she said, walking into her little corner of the world. She'd done her best to make it home, with pictures of Stars Hollow and little trinkets. Logan picked up the picture next to her desk. It was of her and Paris, the latter looking somewhere just to the left of the camera.

"I remember this night," he said. "It was one of Finn's parties. Hold on, did I take this?"

Rory nodded, gingerly taking the picture from his hand and setting it back next to her computer. "Yeah, you did."

Rory picked up her wallet from the far corner of her desk and unzipped it, pulling out two twenties. When he pointed out that her bill had been less, she told him, "The extra is a tip."

"I've never been tipped before."

"New experiences," she told him. "This just proves you never stop having them."

"So, can you give me a tour of the office? Show me where the magic happens?"

Rory laughed. "It's really not that exciting. Besides, haven't you been in enough newspaper offices during your life?"

"Yeah, but not one you work at."

She flushed, wondering if he meant to flirt or if she was just that easily led on. Indulging him, she led him down the hallway and pointed out the unremarkable landmarks as they passed.

"There's the water fountain that I drank from on my first day and never did again because it tasted like swamp water."

"Interesting."

"Right here a spider dropped down on a string in front of my face. I was so startled that I side stepped into my editor, who was carrying a very hot cup of coffee at the time. I found out later that the shirt I ruined was the same one he wore at his wedding."

"I'm surprised you're still working here."

"Me too."

The tour ended in the lobby, where Rory pointed at the women's bathroom and said, "That's where I puked right before my interview."

"It looks like a very nice bathroom to puke in."

"You know, I have no complaints."

They walked out of the building, Rory pulling her sunglasses from the top of her shirt, where she'd hung them while they were indoors, and sliding them on. It was easier to be near him with her eyes hidden. It meant she could look at him more.

"Well, thank you for the tour," he said. "And the tip. I feel very appreciated."

"You're welcome."

"I'll see you around, Rory."

He turned around, making his way toward wherever he was going, and she continued on down the street toward the subway station. She glanced back only once, wondering if it was normal to still feel the way she felt around him.

BBBBB

Rory unlocked the door to her apartment and walked in, the grocery bag feeling significantly heavier than it had moments earlier. The heat weighed on her, and she felt infinitely better as the cold air-conditioned air hit her face.

"Where have you been?" Paris asked.

"Food shopping," Rory said. "And then, um, I had to go back to the office for something. Why?"

"Rob stopped by. He said you had plans or something?"  
"Shit," Rory said, lugging her bag over to the kitchen and then rushing over to

her phone. "We were supposed to get an early dinner before he flew out to Boston for his business meeting. I totally forgot."

"He seemed pretty pissed when you weren't here," Paris offered, not helping matters. "He said something about having reservations somewhere."

"This is going to be a fun phone call," Rory said, walking over to her purse. She pulled out her phone and saw that she had several missed calls and text messages from him. She dimly remembered hearing her phone buzz when she was with Logan and ignoring it.

She quickly dialed Rob's number, each ring making her feel more anxious. He picked up several rings in, and greeted her with, "I'm about to get on the plane, I can't talk for long."

"I'm so sorry I missed you earlier. My day was just crazy, and I guess I just –"

"Forgot we were having dinner for our six month anniversary?"

She froze. Shit. Shit. That was why they'd squeezed in a dinner at five o'clock. Shit.

"I didn't forget," she said, hoping she'd become a better liar over the years. "I was just completely in a story and I lost track of time. You know how I get with stories. I'd planned on leaving early to get down to the restaurant in time, but I –"

"You lost track of time, I heard," he said unhappily. "Look, I need to get on the plane. I'll talk to you when I land."

"Rob-"

"Bye Rory."

She went to say more, but was silenced by the dial tone. She set her phone on the nightstand and then walked back out into the living room. Paris glanced up and noted, "That was a short phone call."

"He had to get on the plane," Rory said by way of explanation.

"Uh huh. I'm guessing he's still pissed?"

"I may not have a boyfriend anymore when he lands in Boston," Rory said in a falsely chipper voice, sighing and dropping onto the couch next to Paris.

"He mentioned something about a six month anniversary?"

"I can't remember stuff like that," Rory lamented somewhat disingenuously. "I mean, a year, definitely. But months?"

"Oh please, I remember you and Farmer Boy. You are definitely the month anniversary type."

Rory frowned, dropping her head back against the couch cushion. "You're right. I am."

"Well, I'm sure he'll forgive you. Just do that Bambi eye thing and you'll be fine."

Rory looked over at Paris in confusion. "My Bambi eye thing?"

"You know, that thing where you look all small and wounded. Guys can't say no to that."

"I don't have a Bambi eye thing."

Paris laughed. "Yes, you definitely do. I saw you use it on Logan all the time when you guys were dating."

"I did not," Rory scoffed.

"Fine, think what you want, but you definitely did. It's nothing to be ashamed of. The Bambi eye is a powerful thing."

"I'm making myself dinner," Rory said, shooting Paris a look as she got off the couch.

"Now, that was an Emily Gilmore eye thing. Also very effective."

"Oh, stop it!"

BBBBB

Rory went into work the next day, eager to hear what her editor, Gary, had to say about her Designated Dialer piece. She saw an email from him in her inbox telling her that he'd read over it and had some notes he wanted to give her in person. He typically sent any edits in a redlined copy of the article, making the fact he wanted to meet in person both puzzling and a bit disconcerting. She quickly downed a cup of coffee before heading to his office.

"Hello Rory," he said cordially. "Sit down, please."

She sat opposite his desk, feeling like fresh Times meat again. It had been a long time since she'd felt nervous for feedback. The tingle up her spine was new, but familiar.

"You said in your email you had notes on the Designated Dialer story."

"Yes, yes, I do," he said. "I liked it. Your writing was strong. The quotes were great. You really made the app come alive."

She nodded, smiling slightly. "Thank you, Gary."

"But, the one thing it's missing is that extra something," he said.

"The extra something?"

"Yes, that personal touch. The thing that makes a story jump off of the pages. You're missing that."

"I'm missing that," she repeated, still not knowing exactly what _that_ meant. "I can try rewriting it."

"No, that won't work. We need something fresh. We need something innovative. You said you know the app's creator, right? You know Logan Huntzberger?"

Rory nodded. "I do."

"Have him take you out. Order a few drinks. See the app in action. Add that to the story, and you've got your something extra."

"You-you want me to go out with him?" Rory repeated.

"Not in a kinky way," Gary said offhandedly. "Don't take the guy home or anything. Unless you want to, of course."

"Definitely don't," she said quickly. "I have a boyfriend, remember?"

Or at least, she thought she did. Rob never did call her when he landed.

"Okay, then don't take him home," Gary said succinctly. "Get some anecdotes of the app in action. How about that friend of his? The one who supposedly sparked the idea? Get him out. Get others like him. It'll make the story complete."

"Alright, I'll talk to him," Rory said.

"Wonderful," Gary said with a wide grin. "So, let's try to get that new copy to me by tomorrow at five, yeah?"

"Tomorrow at five," Rory stammered. "So, you wanted me to take him out tonight?"

"No time like the present."

"Right. Sure. No, time like the…yeah, I'm going to call him now. I'll get on that."

Rory walked out of Gary's office, feeling a bit like she'd just been ordered to ask her ex-boyfriend out. Which was sort of what it was. Did friends who dated each other seriously go out for casual drinks? She'd never done this before, but a nagging voice in the back of her head said that perhaps it wasn't the best idea.

But, it was for the story. She would do just about anything for a story. She pulled out her phone, and scrolled to his number. She hesitated for only a second before typing.

 _Hey, what are you up to tonight?_

 **A/N: As always, feedback is appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in updates. Life is super busy, but here is the new chapter! There is lots of Finn in honor of the actor who played him following me on Twitter (!). Hope you enjoy :D**

Chapter Three

In theory, Rory knew that drinking with her ex wasn't a great idea. Especially when a raucous and morally ambiguous Australian is thrown into the mix, but it was for the story, and dammit, she was willing to do just about anything for one of those. She slaved over the intricacies of nanobites and computer programming back when she was on the tech beat. She could handle one night out.

She knew she was in deep the minute she started delving into her date outfits. She wore a burnt orange tulip skirt with a cream sweater tucked in the waist. Chocolate colored leather booties worked their magic at her ankles. It was something she'd worn out with Rob a few weeks back. When she walked out of her room Paris didn't say a word, which was almost worse than if she had said something. It was almost like her falling back into all of this – namely Logan – was such an inevitably that Paris didn't want to waste the energy commenting on it.

"It's only drinks," she said unnecessarily.

"Sure it is," Paris said.

"Really. It's just drinks. Finn will be there."

"He'll probably ditch you guys halfway through tonight. Actually, probably less than halfway through."

Rory sighed. "You're probably right, but still…it's only drinks. Logan knows about Rob."

"I know he does," Paris said. "Look, I'm not saying anything."

"I know," Rory said with a sigh. "It's what you're _not_ saying that I'm concerned over."

"Rory, you know me better than to think I keep any judgment to myself. I believe you're just having drinks. You're old friends. Whatever."

"Right, whatever," Rory said with more conviction than she felt. Because she was standing there in a date outfit, already wondering if her eye makeup looked okay, and you didn't worry about all of that for a "Right, whatever," night.

"I'm going to go now," Rory said, half to herself. She turned her attention back to Paris and told her, "Don't wait up."

"I won't. You know nothing gets in the way of my eleven o'clock bedtime."

Rory smirked. "Bye Paris."

It wasn't too far to the bar from her apartment, and she almost thought she was going to be early. But then the subway got delayed – something about as normal to her now as getting pulled over by Taylor in Stars Hollow – and she found herself checking her watch anxiously as she made the two block walk from the subway station to the bar.

She spotted them at a corner booth at the side of the bar, Finn making some large gesture as she said something. Logan laughed in response, and she could only imagine what ridiculousness prompted it. She took a calming breath before walking over, plastering on her best this-is-for-an-assignment-and-nothing-more grin.

"Finn, Logan, hi," she said, purposely taking the empty spot next to Finn.

Finn beamed toward her and before she could fully react he pulled her into a tight hug, the smell of his cologne entering her nasal passage so aggressively that it made her cough.

"Gilmore, this is…this is just _fucking_ wonderful," he said, voice displaying only the slightest bit of inebriation. "Look at you." He turned back to Logan. "Mate, _look_ at her!"

"I'm looking Finn," Logan said with an amused grin. "It's nice to look at you."

She laughed a bit and said, "Thank you?"

"So, what are we drinking?" Finn said. "First round's on me."

"Oh, um, red wine for me?" Rory said. "Unless you're just getting a round of beer or something. Then I'll just have that. Or whatever you're getting. Actually, just get me whatever you're getting."

Logan smirked. "You want to have whatever Finn's having? You've gotten brave with age."

"Alright, I'll be back," Finn said, ushering Rory out of the booth with a hand on her shoulder. She scooted back in, watching the energetic Australian make his way through the throngs of people, chatting up several women – of varying hair colors – along the way.

"He really hasn't changed," Rory noted.

"No, he hasn't," Logan said. "Disappointed?"

She shook her head. "No, I actually find it sort of refreshing."

Logan grinned. "It's nice to know that some things don't change, right?"

"Exactly," she said. "Thanks for doing this, by the way."

"No problem. You said that your editor wanted a little more spice to your piece?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he said it needed something extra. So, here we are."

"If my boss told me to go drink on the job I'd be pretty happy," Logan said. His expression shifted for a moment and he asked, "Hey, can you expense this?"

Rory smirked and shook her head. "No, this immersion journalism is all on the journalist." She remembered Finn up at the bar and added, "And her Australian friend."

"I'll cover the next round," Logan told her.

"Oh, you don't have to," she said. "I can handle one night on the town. Being a journalist hasn't made me that destitute."

Logan's eyes danced at that, and he said, "If all goes as planned this article will be bringing in business, so consider it your cut of the profit."

Before she could say anything in return, Finn appeared at their table with a tray filled with shots. Rory had a pretty good feeling that none of them was the red wine she originally asked for.

"Well, this is what you get for saying I'll have whatever you're having," Rory thought to herself.

"These were on the specials night," Finn said, placing three in front of each of them. "So, I ordered all of them."

"Naturally," Logan said drily. Finn sat down next to Rory and pushed her over toward Logan, who asked, "Do I need to go get us something not in a shot glass? I think Rory wants us here for more than five minutes."

"A round of beers is coming, mate," Finn returned. He looked back at the bar and then pointed to a waitress who glowered in return. Rory could only imagine what sexist remark he made to elicit that look.

"That lady with the _beautiful_ cleavage will be bringing them round."

Rory had a feeling then what it was he said.

"Alright, so let's get your phone out and get that app ready," Rory said, reminding them – and herself – why they were at this bar on a Tuesday night. "I'm excited to see it in action."

"Why don't you try it, love?" Finn suggested, although he handed his phone over as requested. "I've already used it plenty. Works like a fucking dream, by the way. I credit that app to my still having my balls."

"That's quite the compliment," Logan said, stifling a laugh when he saw the positively stricken look on Rory's face.

"Okay, I guess we can use it on my phone," she relented, pulling it from her purse. It actually wasn't a half bad idea. She'd already downloaded it, to get a feel for the app and how it worked, but she never actually used it.

"Let's toast to that," Finn said gaily, picking up the nearest shot to him – a dull red one that reeked on red bull – and raised it in the air. Rory reluctantly picked up her matching shot and made the mistake of taking an experimental sniff. Yep. Definitely red bull. She'd be tasting this for hours.

"I'll just have this one," she told herself reasonably. She could push the rest off on Finn throughout the night. He was never one to turn down extra alcohol. The three of them hit the shot back, her eyes watering as the shot burned her throat.

"Oh, that burns," she croaked, swallowing hard.

"A good burn, right, love?" Finn said happily, already reaching toward the second shot.

Logan asked her, "So, whose number are you putting on alert tonight?"

Rory thought about it for a second and said, "Probably Rob."

"Rob?" he asked.

"My boyfriend," she said.

"Your boyfriend?" Finn asked, his second shot momentarily forgotten. "Good for you, love. Why are you hiding his number?"

"He doesn't really like it when I drink," Rory said. "He's very much a my-body-is-my-temple type. No alcohol. No soda. No refined sugar."

Logan stared at her. "How the hell did he end up with you?"

She shrugged. "Opposite attract, I guess? It's not all bad. Some of his healthy habits have actually rubbed off on me. I drink a lot less soda. I go for the occasional run."

Logan snorted. "You what?"

"Okay, very occasional. I did it twice and then realized that I really don't like sweating. But, you know, I _was_ a jogging person for a little."

"For two days?" he teased.

"Alright, love, let's get his number all nice and wrapped up," Finn prompted, pulling her and Logan from their little repartee. "Then more drinking."

She went through the app, choosing Rob's number and setting up all the proper parameters so that if her tipsy fingers searched for his number, she'd come up short. She could just imagine the disappointment in his voice if she called drunk. Or maybe he wouldn't care. Things were still strained between them since she forgot about their anniversary.

"Alright, done," she said, setting her phone down on the table.

The waitress came over with their beers, pointedly ignoring Finn as he tried to get her attention. She made her way back to the bar and Finn murmured, "I love it when they play hard to get."

"Did it ever occur to you, Finn, that women playing hard to get might just not be interested?" Rory offered gently. Finn stared at her blankly and she murmured, "I guess it hasn't."

Finn took a large gulp of beer from his stein and then gestured toward Logan with it as he said, "We're doing an Irish car bomb later tonight. You and me, mate."

Logan nodded. "You got it."

Rory leaned in toward Logan and told him, "You are going to be vomiting so badly."

"Chalk it up as part of the experience, yeah?"

"I don't like vomiting as any part of anything."

"That's probably wise."

"Alright, guys, let's get going on these," Finn said, holding up another shot glass. It was an amber-colored liquor that Rory hoped was whisky. Any other option didn't seem too appealing. A few minutes prior, downing a shot in such close proximity to another would have been deemed a bad idea, but her head was just a little spacy from the first shot, and it was just spacy enough to not recognize the downward spiral that second shot would send her on.

It was, in fact, whiskey, and while it burned just as much as the first shot, Rory didn't notice it as much. Her hands slid around her beer and she sipped at it frequently, enjoying the pleasant haze it lent to her head. She didn't even realize it when she finished, sipping at an empty stein until Logan swatted her hands – wrapped around the empty stein – back toward the table. When Finn suggested taking the third and final shot, she didn't even hesitate.

"Let's do it!"

* * *

Drinking with Finn was wonderful. She didn't know why she didn't do it more in college. Everything was exciting. A random passerby in an interesting shirt. The waitress. The bowl of peanuts. Who knew peanuts were so delicious? She didn't. It was a neglected food, she decided. She needed to buy more peanuts.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" Finn said, leaning heavily on the table. "It's fucking wonderful. All of us back together."

"It is wonderful, isn't it?" Rory said. "F-ing wonderful."

Finn leaned toward her and slowly said, "Fucking. Say it, Gilmore. _Fucking_ wonderful."

She hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "Fucking wonderful. It's fucking wonderful!" She turned back to Logan with a wide grin and said, "Did you hear that? It's fucking wonderful!"

Logan laughed. "I did hear you, Ace."

He was using her nickname again, and it was a change that didn't go unnoticed. She propped her elbow on the table and dropped her chin into her upturned palm before looking up at him and saying, "I like when you call me that."

"Call you what?" he asked, mid-sip of beer, and resuming to the sip as he waited for her answer.

"Ace," she said. "I like when you call me Ace. Always have."

"I didn't think you liked it that much in the beginning."

She shook her head. "I did. I thought it was cute. Besides, I never had a nickname before. Well, my mom called me Cutie Poops when I was little, but that really doesn't count."

Logan smirked and told her, "I am officially calling you Cutie Poops from now on."

"No! Logan, you can't!"

"Whatever you say, Cutie Poops."

"Finn, tell Logan he can't call me Cutie Poops," she said loudly, turning her head over to the now empty seat next to her. She scanned the crowd for a moment and then spotted him sidled up to a redhead a few tables over.

"Huh," she said. "When did that happen?"

"I don't know."

"Wasn't he just saying how great it was that we were all together?"

"Finn is often distracted by beautiful women. Don't take it personally."

"Okay," she said, taking another large gulp of beer. "Hey, how come you don't have a nickname?"

"I gave you one when we met. Master and Commander, remember?"

Rory shook her head messily. "That wasn't the first time we met. That was the second time. The first time was –"

"With Marty outside that coffee kart," Logan finished. "You're right."

"You were sort of a jerk when we met," Rory recalled, leaning back in the booth. "And then when we met again outside my dorm. All that stuff about Marty being a servant?"

"I didn't actually agree with everything I was saying," Logan said. "I just liked getting you riled up. You're cute when you get all indignant."

She felt her cheeks flush. "You shouldn't say things like that."

"I know."

Silence fell between them, and after a few moments Logan said, "A few years back I visited here. It was just for a weekend. Business stuff. I called you."

She swallowed hard and murmured, "You did?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's when you first started at the Times. I, uh, left a message on your machine?"

This was supposed to be the part where she told him that she did hear the message, and she regretted not responding. This was supposed to be the part where she apologized, and he did too, because no single party was entirely at fault in their story. Years of misunderstanding and hurt settled over a collection of empty bar glasses.

"My machine had some glitches when I first started," she said, disappointment spreading in her chest the moment the lie left her mouth. But it was too late to go back now. "I lost a bunch of messages. Yours must have been one of them."

"Oh."

"Did I miss something important?" she asked.

He shook his head immediately. "No. Nothing important."

"Good," she said softly. "I would have hated to have missed something important."

Something in his gaze told her that he was going to say more, but before he could Finn ambled back over to the table with another platter of shots. He went through a rambling story of them being on special which made Rory think he'd somehow forgotten about ordering them a few hours prior. Still, all downed them like it was the first time. Like they hadn't already toed the line from drunk to obliterated.

By the time they left, Rory could barely walk and Finn held her by the waist as they staggered to the nearest cab with Logan in tow. They climbed in, telling the unhappy cab driver that they had three different drop-offs. The next morning Rory would think that they were lucky the cab driver didn't kick them out, but the driver didn't protest, instead adding several additional dollars onto the fare.

The movement of the car made Rory's eyelids heavy, and she rested her head on Finn's shoulder, feeling her eyelids drift shut until Finn loudly shouted about some song on the radio, and her head jerked back up abruptly.

"Too fast," she complained, bringing a hand to her forehead.

"Easy Ace," Logan said, reaching up and laying his hand over hers. She looked over at him, her lips parting slightly as her eyes met his. They were close – so close – in the small back seat of the cab, and she was suddenly extremely grateful for Finn with them.

"I love you guys," Finn slurred beside her. "I fucking love you."

Rory was the first stop, and Logan scooted out to let her out of the cab. He helped her out, arm slipping around her waist as she stumbled on her heels. She looked up at him, wanting so badly to reach up and feel his cheekbones under her fingertips, but knowing that she couldn't. That was before, and this was now. She couldn't do that anymore.

"Thank you for helping me out," she said.

"No problem, Ace."

"Goodnight, Logan."

He did a strange sort of bow, and then got back into the cab. She watched it pull away and turned toward her building, fumbling in her purse for her keys. She walked up the steps and then unlocked her door, closing it noisily behind her. Paris was long asleep, and Rory tried her best to not make too much noise as she walked over to her room and then closed the door. She changed into a pair of pajamas and collapsed onto her bed, messily pulling the comforter up over her bare shoulders.

She laid there for a while, staring at her ceiling and replaying the conversations from the bar in her head. She thought about Logan, and how the phone call finally came up. She thought about what she said. The lies. She shouldn't have lied. That was her chance to clear the air, and instead she made it even more muddied.

She reached for her phone on her nightstand, knocking over a bottle of lotion and a book in her efforts. Still, her fingers curled around her phone successfully and she pressed the large button at the bottom center, the screen coming to life in the darkness of her room. She opened her contacts and scrolled down to his number. Part of her whispered that this conversation shouldn't be had when she was about three thousand sheets to the wind, but she didn't know if she'd have the courage when sobriety took hold.

Decision made, she tapped on his name.

The phone rang, rang, and rang before he finally answered. His voice was thick, and she murmured, "Did I wake you up?"

"Rory? Why are you – what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I'm sorry, I should have realized you would be asleep. I…go back to bed. I'll call you later."

"No, Rory, stop. You called for a reason. What's going on?"

She took a deep breath and said, "I lied earlier. About my machine losing your message. I listened to it."

"You did?"

"A few times. I…I should have called you back. But I was still angry at you for leaving, and I know that's really not an excuse, but that's where I was. I was still hurt, and so I wanted to hurt you."

"I never meant to hurt you," he said. "I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I know," she said. "But, can you understand now why I couldn't do that? Why it wasn't right for me?"

"It took me a while," he said slowly, "but, yeah. I understand."

"I did love you. Please know that. I just wasn't ready to settled down like you wanted. I just graduated. My life was just beginning."

"It wasn't the right time for either of us," Logan admitted. "Why did you lie to me earlier tonight?"

"I was embarrassed," she told him. "I should have called you back. Even though I was angry. Even though I was hurt, I should have called you back. I should have heard you out. I owed you that."

Logan was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "Thank you for telling me."

"I should have told you sooner."

There was a beat of silence, and Logan asked, "How did the app work tonight?"

"The app – oh, I actually didn't call Rob at all. Didn't really even think of it."

"Ah, see that's the first line of defense with the app. You put the number off limits and your brain senses that."

"Yeah, it must," she murmured.

"Well, you should get to bed, Ace. The hangover you're going to have tomorrow will be bad enough without sleep deprivation added to the mix."

"You're right," she murmured. She wasn't looking forward to the morning. Actually, considering it was already morning, she probably wouldn't be facing that nightmare until the afternoon. "Goodnight, Logan. Sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay. To be honest, the call was worth it."

She smiled a bit. "I'll talk to you soon."

She hung up and tugged the covers up beneath her chin, closing her eyes and letting sleep wash over her. Miraculously, she only woke up with a mild headache.

 **A/N: As always, feedback is appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the long days. Life, work, etc. got in the way. Hope this was worth the wait! Some of you may hate it - but it will lead to good things! I promise!**

Chapter Four 

Several weeks passed since Rory's drunken confession to Logan, and everything seemed to go back to normal. She turned in her piece to her editor, receiving minimal edits and a passionate plea to return to the tech beat, which she gently declined. That wasn't her world anymore, none of it was. She went back to her political beat, and patched things up with Rob. She didn't see Logan much, save for the odd run-in at Whole Foods or occasional text. She'd been bothered by it at first, but told herself that it was the best case scenario. She saw Logan again, exorcised the demons between them, and both left unscathed. There were other ways all of that could have gone, and Rory much preferred the version they ended up with.

Rory was back in Stars Hollow for the weekend, which always created a strange sort of déjà vu for her. She couldn't deny that she'd changed after being in New York for all these years. She was a bit less open. She walked faster. But whenever she came home to Stars Hollow, she could feel her city self shrink back, unable to compete with the excessive cheer.

She was back for the Harvest Festival, and the town square was packed to the gills with scarecrows and bales of hay. They'd stopped doing mazes a few years back when Kirk got lost, and in a panic ran into one of the tall bales of hay with such force that it knocked him out. Taylor, fearing future lawsuits from less forgiving townspeople or tourists, of which he kept insisting were going to show up but continued to elude the town, put a definitive end to mazes. Rory didn't really miss the maze. It never was her favorite part of the festival, and besides, it made her think of Logan.

She pulled her car up in front of her old house. She killed the engine, taking one parting glance in the rearview mirror before getting out with her bag. She fished her key out of her purse, quite the feat considering all that she forced in there, and then opened the door. She immediately heard the sound of light argument between Lorelai and Luke.

They found their way back to each other, although it took longer than anyone expected. Rory remembered Lorelai telling her about their kiss after her Bon Voyage party, her smile evident through the phone.

"It felt right," Lorelai had said. "Like things are finally how they are supposed to be."

The kiss was definitely the start, but it took several weeks before both were all in, as Luke had said all those years before. He was hurt by Lorelai's sudden marriage to Christopher, and Lorelai still had lingering resentment over how April had been kept from her. Eventually, all the ground of painful yesteryears were covered, and at the close of all that hurt both were resolute in the fact that they still wanted to be with the other. They married only a few months later, and hadn't looked back since.

Rory closed the door and the voices stopped. Lorelai rushed over to the foyer and grinned wide when she saw her daughter. She launched herself at Rory, hugging her with such force that it knocked the breath out of her. Luke strolled in behind Lorelai, smiling as he said, "Hi Rory. It's great to see you."

"Thanks Luke," Rory said, after Lorelai relinquished her and she could breath again. She tucked her hair behind her ears and said, "The town square looks great. Did I detect some extra bales of hay this year?"

Rory knew Lorelai had been campaigning to up the town's decoration game that year – a humorous endeavor to most since Stars Hollow typically looked like a toddler decorated it with the sheer amount of stuff everywhere – and Lorelai nodded excitedly and said, "It took some wrangling to get Taylor to stop harping about his 'vision', but if your mother is anything, she's persistent."

"She also threatened to mix up the barrels of candy at the soda shoppe," Luke added.

Rory smirked. "You drive a hard bargain."

"So, how are you?" Lorelai began, taking a hold of Rory's arm and steering her toward the kitchen. "Tell me everything that's happened to you since we talked."

"Since we talked yesterday?" Rory prompted with a grin.

"A lot can happen in a day. In fact, just this morning I got a tweet from Bjork! I can't believe I forgot to call you."

"I can't believe you forgot to call, either," Luke said drily. "You told me about eighteen times."

Rory smirked. Lorelai discovered Twitter a few months ago – years behind the rest of society, which is how Lorelai was with most technology – and became entranced by the opportunity to interact with her favorite celebrities. Her account was an embarrassing smattering of direct tweets to celebrities, but Rory was glad it paid off.

"Did you pass out when you saw it?" Rory teased.

"No, I was remarkably calm."

"Yeah, so calm that you knocked over an entire cup of coffee at the diner," Luke added.

"You only knocked over a cup of coffee?" Rory said. "That is remarkably calm for you."

"Right?" Lorelai turned to her husband. "You still don't totally understand it, babe. Bjork is…Bjork."

"I get it, I get it," Luke said, holding up a hand. "Please spare me another Bjork conversation. I've had enough for a lifetime."

"So, what's on the agenda for today," Rory said, changing the topic of conversation. Luke gave her a grateful look and she nodded happily.

"Well, as you know, no visit is complete with a well thought out itinerary. I mean, without one you might as well not visit."

"Here here," Rory chimed in.

"So, we are starting out with lunch at Luke's. I made sure he had apple pie for today. And good thing I did, because he was going to have peach for today. Can you imagine?"

"The horror," Rory said solemnly.

"After that, I blocked in some alone time for you and the bookstore."

"That is much appreciated."

"Then, pumpkin carving contest is at 3:00. Taylor rooked Ms. Patty into leading a square dancing lesson, which can only be hilarious, and then I thought Al's Pancake World and a hate-viewing of Crossroads. What do you think?"

"You planned the perfect day. I'm impressed."

"Luke gets some credit here," Lorelai said loftily. "He did get to hear all of my previous versions of the day."

"Yes. Previous versions where the only difference was the phrasing," Luke pointed out. "How many different ways can you describe going to a bookstore?"

"Oh Luke, how little you know," Lorelai returned with feigned disappointment. "Now, let's go get some lunch. I'm starving!"

* * *

After eating their way through almost an entire apple pie, Rory parted ways with Lorelai and Luke, and headed over to the Black, White and Red bookstore. She was crossing the street, when she saw something that made her stop dead in the middle of the intersection. A car honked and she clumsily made her way to the sidewalk, her heartbeat deafening in her ears. Logan had just walked out of Weston Bakery, two small coffees in his hand. The number of coffees didn't register at first, only the fact that he was there, and since he wasn't there for her then who for?

Her feet took her over to him without much say from the rest of her, and then her voice had its own idea too, and called out for him. He turned around, shoulders just a bit tense, but then relaxing as if some internal cue took place.

"Rory, hey."

Her feet took her a few more steps, and then she was standing in front of him. She still couldn't quite believe he was there. It was strange enough running into him around New York, but here it seemed downright loopy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "And why did you get your coffee from Weston's?"

"Seasonal lattes," he returned, holding up one of the cups.

"Ah, that's a good reason. My mom's been trying to get Luke to add a pumpkin spice latte for years now. He won't budge, even now that they're married. She almost considered making that a condition for their marriage, but wasn't sure he'd see the humor in it."

Logan laughed. "Yeah, it was probably wise on her part that she didn't go through with that."

"So, is Finn here or something?" Rory said, looking over his shoulder to try to catch sight of the tall Australian.

"No, Finn's not here," Logan said, his voice showing the slightest bit of discomfort. "I'm actually here –"

"There you are," a female voice said. Rory turned her head and saw that the voice belonged to a small redhead. She had a paper bag clutched in her hand, and Rory could only imagine whatever sweets were enclosed inside. The girl was one of the few adult women that Rory would consider cute without looking childish. She had short curly hair and one of those button noses that seemed straight out of a painting or something. She wore a cherry red pea coat with an ivory scarf tucked around the collar.

"Rory, this is Molly."

Rory nodded, trying to find some words to say in response, and failing miserably. Logan hadn't quite spelled out what the relationship between him and this Molly was, but it was fairly clear. If not boyfriend and girlfriend - which Rory had to assume was not the case since he hadn't introduced her as his girlfriend - they were at least dating. Logan was dating a girl from Stars Hollow. Huh.

"Molly, this is –"

"Rory Gilmore," she said with a grin, nodding happily. "You probably don't remember this, but we were wise men together in the Christmas play when we were in fourth grade." She paused, eyebrows furrowed. "At least I think it was fourth grade. Yeah, fourth grade sounds right. It was the year that Kirk tripped over an extension cord and twisted his ankle? He broke his fall on –"

"Reverend Skinner," Rory finished, her face flushing. "Yes, I…I do remember that. It's Molly Porter, right?"

She nodded. "Yep. That's it."

She hadn't thought of Molly Porter in years. Probably wouldn't have even remembered her if she hadn't suddenly met her again outside of Weston's, her ex-boyfriend holding a seasonal latte for her.

"Anyway, it's so great to see you," Molly said. "You're up in New York now, right?"

Rory nodded.

"That's where Logan is, too. Such a small world, huh?"

"You can say that again," Rory said. "So, um, how did you two meet?"

"Online, if you can believe it. I was really against online dating, but then I just thought, why not, and took the plunge." She looked up at Logan, practically beaming. "I think it turned out pretty okay. Don't you?"

Logan nodded stiffly. "Yeah, I do."

"Anyway, I brought him back here for his first Harvest Festival," Molly continued. 'I can't even imagine what experiencing your first Stars Hollow festival is like."

Probably a bit like this moment, Rory thought. There also was the fact that this wasn't Logan's first Stars Hollow festival. She held that honor five years back, when she took him the Hay Bale Maze. But, he seemed to want Molly to think she was taking that honor, and Rory wasn't about to interfere. Her mind was too muddled at this point to even consider it.

"Well, it was nice seeing both of you," Rory said, desperately wishing to be anywhere but on this sidewalk with her ex-boyfriend and Molly Porter. "Enjoy the festival."

She turned around and continued her way to the bookstore, feeling Logan's gaze on her for a moment, and then the feeling was gone. How the hell did he end up dating another girl from Stars Hollow? What were the odds? She told herself that she didn't have a right to be affected by any of it. She was dating Rob. They were happy, or something close to happy. They both moved on, as they should.

She went into the bookstore and distracted herself by allotting an almost endless budget for books. She picked up anything that looked good, knowing full well that she was stress shopping, and not caring. She turned a corner, arms straining from the weight of the books, when she nearly ran into Logan. Several books went toppling onto the floor and Logan quickly crouched down to help her retrieve the lost ones.

"Are you buying the entire store?" he asked glibly.

"Only the parts I like."

He didn't give her back the books he picked up, and she waited. Instead of handing them back, he said, "I'm sorry about before. With Molly."

"It's fine."

"I was going to tell you. But, it felt weird to do it over text. It's a recent thing. After we went out with Finn. I should have told you, but –"

"You don't need to tell me anything," Rory said resolutely. "I think it's great. Molly is great."

"Thanks."

"So, online dating? If college Logan saw you now, he'd probably make fun of you mercilessly."

"I think college Logan would be like, why doesn't this exist now?"

Rory smirked. "Fair point."

"Early college Logan, of course," he clarified. "Later college Logan was pretty happy with what he had."

Rory nodded. "I remember that. But really, I'm happy for you. It's sort of weird that she's from here, but…it makes it pretty hard for me to _not_ like her. Not that it matters if I like her. You don't need my approval or anything. Obviously. I just –"

"No, it does matter," Logan said. "I'm glad you like her. Now I just need to meet your Rob."

"We could double date," she joked. "Because that wouldn't be weird at all."

"Not a bit. Do you need help bringing your haul to the cash register? I don't want you to get buried under them or anything."

Rory grinned and shook her head. "I'm fine. Thank you, though."

He handed her the books back and she shifted them a bit to get a hold on the new additions. It was a struggle, but she managed to keep them all balanced.

"Well, I better…" Logan said slowly, tilting his head toward the door.

"Yeah, it was nice seeing you. Maybe I'll catch you again at the pumpkin carving?"

"I'll be there. It's the part Molly's most excited about. And apparently there's something about a square dancing lesson?"

Rory nodded. "It'll be a festival you never forget."

"I guess. Well, I'll see you later then."

Rory nodded. "Bye Logan."

She waited until he left and was at least a good block away before reshelving the books, her hands shaking the entire time. She left the bookstore and completed a thorough evaluation of who was on the street before venturing out. She headed straight for Ms. Patty's studio, knowing exactly what she wanted. Sure enough, there was a folding table set out with a bright orange tablecloth and three bowls of punch. The Harvest Festival punch wasn't quite as volatile as the Founders Day punch, but you could still smell the alcohol from a few feet away. She ladled a spoonful into a mug and took a hearty mouthful.

"Be careful with that, dear," Ms. Patty warned.

"I'm only having one," Rory promised, and she meant it. The last thing she needed right now was to not have proper control over her tongue. She worked on the mug as she walked over to Lorelai, who already staked out two tables for them at the pumpkin carving contest.

"Well, you're starting early," Lorelai said, eyeing the mug.

"I'm getting in the Harvest Festival spirit," Rory countered.

"I can't argue with that. What did you…" she trailed off, spotting the source of Rory's sudden festiveness. "Is that who I think it is?"

Rory didn't even need to look to know what Lorelai was talking about. "Yep."

"What is he doing here?"

Rory didn't answer, waiting for Lorelai to see the last part of the Why-Is-Logan-In-Stars-Hollow puzzle. When she did, she gasped.

"Is he –"

"Yep."

"With another girl from Stars Hollow?"

"Yep."

"Wow." Rory felt a hand on her arm. "Are you okay? Do you want to leave? We can go home and hate-watch another movie before _Crossroads_. Pick up some ice cream on the way."

Rory took a deep breath. "That's not necessary. I'm fine." When Lorelai didn't say anything, a clear sign that she wasn't buying what Rory was saying, she looked up at her mother and said, "Honestly, I'm fine. I mean, it's weird, but it is what it is. At least she's nice."

"Yeah, that's good. Does she know about you?"

"I don't think so. She thinks this is his first Stars Hollow festival."

Lorelai snorted. "Ah, so the lies have already started. Well, that's healthy."

Rory shrugged, thinking about how she still hadn't told Rob about Logan. "It's probably easier. Him and I…it's a long story to have to tell someone."

"Well, yeah, you guys have a lot of history."

"A lot," Rory echoed.

Luke showed up, two paper coffee cups in his hand. He crouched down and told them, "If you tell anyone that I made you these, you are never getting another, understood?"

Lorelai narrowed her eyes in confusion and said, "Cryptic much?"

"Just drink the coffee, Lorelai."

She took the cup from him and took a sip. Her eyes widened and she breathed out, "You didn't."

"I did. But only this once. Your next one isn't coming until next year."

Rory took her coffee and after one glorious pumpkin-spiced sip, knew what all the hullabaloo was about.

"This is better than Weston's," Lorelai said. "You could make a boatload of money."

"I'm good," Luke said, sitting next to her. "So, when is all this crap starting? I told Cesar I'd be here for about twenty minutes." He looked over Rory's shoulder and said, "Hey, isn't that –"

"Yes, it is," Lorelai interrupted. "And we aren't talking about it."

He looked at Rory and said, "You get a second one."

"What? That's not fair!" Lorelai said.

"She's emotionally compromised," Luke returned. "Are you?"

"I'm not emotionally compromised," Rory said.

"I can be emotionally compromised, too," Lorelai said. "They cancelled that Duggar show. You know how much I liked to mock it. Can I get an extra one for that?"

"You're ridiculous. Are you honestly comparing at TLC show with loss of someone you love?"

"Hey, not emotionally compromised over here," Rory said futilely, knowing fair well that when Luke and Lorelai get into one of these arguments, little can stop it. "No lost love. Really. I'm good."  
"You know how much I love to mock things," Lorelai continued. "It is perhaps one of the purest loves. The greatest love of all."

"Mocking things is the greatest love of all? As your husband, I'm a little offended."

"I'm going to go…be anywhere but here…" Rory said, standing up. Lorelai and Luke barely noticed, and she walked back over to Ms. Patty's. Lane was there with Zach and their brood of children, who were straining to get away from their parents and join the kids playing over by the bales of hay.

"Rory, oh my God!" Lane exclaimed, launching off toward her. She hugged her and said, "It's so great to see you! You didn't tell me you were coming to this!"

"Sorry. It's been crazy lately."

"It's okay. I'm just happy to see you."

"Hey there, Rory," Zach said. "Lane, I'm going to take these guys over by the kids. I don't think they can handle being still for much longer."

Lane smirked. "Sure. Go take them." When he was out of earshot, she added, "I don't think their dad could handle being still for much longer, either."

"You guys seem happy," Rory noted.

"We are. How about you and that hedge guy? Wait, that doesn't sound right. Hedge something?"

"Hedge fund," Rory corrected with a smirk. "And he's good. We're good."

A flash of concern passed on Lane's face. "That good, huh? You sound like I used to when I would talk about the future Korean doctors I'd go on hayrides with."

"Not all relationships are fireworks and…and rocket ships. We're happy. Stable."

"Well, if you're happy then I'm happy."

Rory nodded. "I am."

"Is it weird to be back? I'm mean, I know you visit and stuff, but living in New York for so long, it has to be sort of weird, right?"

Rory was going to say no, but then her gaze landed on Logan and Molly. She was showing him something on her phone, and he was laughing. He looked happy.

"Yeah. It is weird."

 **A/N: I know. I pulled the most over-used storyline ever of Logan randomly having a new girlfriend/dating partner. But my take on it will be different, I promise! Molly will not be some evil hag who screws over Logan or hates Rory...you may even end up liking her. GASP.**

 **Review are love!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Rory swore that Logan dating someone new wouldn't change things between them, but like most lies we tell ourselves to make things easier, it wasn't true. It shouldn't have changed things, because she was dating someone. There was already an added party to their twosome, and what was another person? If anything, it balanced things. They each had a person in their respective corner. She had Rob. He had Molly. It was balanced. It was right.

It was a nightmare.

She couldn't relax around him anymore. Every time they were together she just found herself asking about _her_ , even when it made him supremely uncomfortable, but she couldn't stop herself. She just kept thinking that was what a normal, totally-water-under-the-bridge ex-couple did. They asked about significant others. They feigned interest. It's what people normal people did. And if Rory was good at anything, it was doing the things that purported normal people did.

It was two months since the Fall Festival. Two months of stilted conversation and constantly planning that double date that both of them knew was never actually going to happen. Because it wasn't. Not when she recommended restaurants, or when he grudgingly brought up mini-golf. Because what better pastime to force a smile and grit your teeth through than mandated fun like mini-golf?

"I don't understand why anyone ever thought that was a good date idea," Paris said, shaking her head. "Mini-golf is torture. They even give you your own torture devices. Those neon colored balls and putters that always seem to be broken."

"It's better than bowling," Rory said, propping her feet on the coffee table. Paris used to get on her about that, but after months of resistance she'd finally caved. She even joined Rory now and then, but only when she was wearing fresh socks. Tonight was no such night, and Paris' feet stayed tucked beneath her.

"I agree with that," Paris said. "Bowling is the worst. The shoes never fit."

"The pizza is always bad," Rory added. "And not good-bad. Just bad."

"I'm partial to bowling nachos, though. I like the fake cheese."

Rory nodded solemnly. "The fake cheese is good."

They were quiet for a moment and Paris asked, "Are you ever going to admit that you still love him?"

"Nope."

"Because that's the root of all of this. All of your back and forth about the girlfriend. Your fights with Rob. You still love him."

"I don't fight with Rob that much."

"You fight all the time," Paris said. "You were literally just on the phone fighting."

"We had a disagreement."

"Fine, well, sub in the word disagreement for fight, and you guys have them all the freaking time. You're worse than Doyle and I were during college."

Rory winced. "Ouch."

"I call a spade when I see one."

"I don't still love him," Rory said, sinking down into the couch. "It's just, I always sort of thought of him as mine. Even after we broke up. He was _my_ ex. Just like he was _my_ boyfriend. In theory I knew he was moving on, he had to, but it seemed removed from us. It didn't even register in the same sentence as what we had, but…" Rory trailed off, shaking her head, "…she's from Stars Hollow, Paris. She's from _Stars Hollow_. It almost feels like he replaced me. Traded me in for a newer, perkier model."

"You're still the perkiest person I know."

"She's perkier. It's like she's straight out of a Hallmark movie."

Paris winced. "That's nauseating."

"And I like her. I hate that I like her. If he was dating who I thought he'd date – some society bimbo – I could sit here and rail about how she's this or she's that. But, she's nice. She's nice and it's awful."

"You know what could make you not like her? Playing mini-golf. That game can ruin feelings of good will toward anyone."

Rory snorted. "I don't know if I want to subject myself to that."

They were silent for a moment, and Rory thought about how it had been weeks since she'd really talked to Logan. Sure, there'd been the odd coffee here and there, or the quick conversation when they'd cross paths at Whole Foods, but it wasn't like before. Something imperceptible shifted between them, and neither had managed how to bridge that shift.

They'd grown closer after the night out with Finn. After the phone call and all the awkwardness between them finally being lifted. She hadn't realized how much she missed him until then. It wasn't a romantic thing, either. It was just him. It was the way he poked fun at her but still sat through her detailed comparisons of one donut place to another. It was the way he knew she was always a week behind on television shows, but still discussed them with her a week late like he'd just seen it himself. It was easy to forget with all the tragically romantic voicemails and graduation proposals, that besides being lovers, they'd also been best friends. They'd rediscovered that in New York, and she found that now, with the distance between them, she missed him more than ever.

"What are you thinking about?" Paris asked.

Rory closed her eyes for a moment. "I'm thinking that it feels like I've lost him all over again."

"You know you could just pick up the phone. Actually talk, instead of whatever you guys have been doing lately."

Rory sighed, sitting up a bit and arching her back as she stretched. "I'm going to call Rob."

"Oh, because that's what you need right now."

"It is what I need," Rory said, her voice sharper than she intended. "Because, Rob is who is in my life now. Not Logan. I need to stop wasting all this time and energy on someone who isn't in my life anymore, and focus on the person who is."

"Okay," Paris said, holding up her hands. "Do what you want. But, please shut your door when you start yelling at each other. There's a Ken Burns biography on at seven that I don't want to miss."

Rory rolled her eyes as she pulled herself up from the couch. "Sure thing."

* * *

Rory called Rob, trying to remain calm and rediscover whatever charming businessman mojo she'd seen in him when they first met and everything about him had flooded her senses. That night was one she'd always remember with a slight amber hued haze, like a scene out of an old movie. He was so charming that night. The type that stayed in your mind long after numbers are exchanged and the first nervous text messages are sent.

They started arguing in the first five minutes.

"I just don't understand why you'd live all the way across town in that shitty shoebox apartment, when you could come live with me. It's doesn't make any sense."

Rob had been after her for months to move in. She opposed the idea with every fiber of her being.

"I told you, I like my shoebox apartment. It's close to work. It has good takeout places. You know how important good takeout places are to me."

"You just aren't willing to take the next step," Rob said angrily.

"Rob, not this again. I told you, I –"

Her call waiting began to beep, and she glanced down at her screen and saw Lorelai's number flashing.

Saved by the mother, she thought.

"Rob, my mom's calling. I have to go."

"You know, I won't wait around for you forever," Rob said. "You need to put a little into this relationship, too, Rory. It can't all be me."

Rory shook her head and sighed, "It's not all you. I'm trying here, Rob. I really am."

"Yeah, well, try harder."

Rory thought of the last person who'd asked her to pick up her life for him and take that next step, and look how that turned out.

"I'm going to see what my mom needs, okay? Just stay on the line."

She switched over and saw him drop the call, effectively hanging up on her. She sighed and pressed her phone back to her ear.

"Hey mom, what's up?"

It was such a simple question. Two words. Six letters. It was such a simple question, and it changed everything.

* * *

Everything that happened afterwards was a bit of a blur. Rory sank down on her bed as Lorelai told her that her grandfather had a heart attack. He was in surgery now, but it didn't look good. She didn't hear the rest, except for the hospital name and something about a Santa burger.

"What?" Rory asked, confused.

"Nothing," Lorelai said quickly, her voice thick. "It's just…the first time I was in a hospital like this Luke made me a Santa burger…I don't know why I thought of that…"

"I'll be right over. I'm leaving now."

"Okay. Drive careful."

"I will."

Rory didn't trust herself to drive and asked Paris to take her. Paris, who only held the highest regard for Rory's grandfather, agreed immediately. Rory followed Paris to the car in a bit of a fog, her body moving of its own accord but her mind somewhere else entirely. She was thinking about the last time she saw her grandfather. He came into the city on a Tuesday, and she cleared her schedule so she could squire him around. She knew full well that he'd been to New York countless times before by himself and with her grandmother, but there was something special about it being just the two of them. They finished the day in her office, his eyes welling with tears as he ran his hand along her desk.

"I'm just so proud of you, Rory. You've surpassed even my expectations. You've become quite the woman. I couldn't be more proud of you."

Rory and Paris didn't talk on the way to the hospital. Paris wasn't good at offering comforting words in the best of times, and a crisis only dulled her skills. Rory didn't mind the quiet. She didn't know if she'd have the words for anything else. Her mind was a jumble, filled with memories and half-formed thoughts that she was too afraid to complete.

They pulled into the hospital parking lot and Paris parked in the first spot that they saw. Rory was going to tell Paris that she could leave, but she found herself wanting someone with her. They got out of the car and walked over into the hospital. Rory began pulling at the bottom of her sweater nervously. She never liked hospitals, although in the past it always turned out well. She held onto hope that this time would be the same as all the others.

"Rory!"

Lorelai came bounding down the corridor and threw her arms around her daughter, holding her tightly.

"How is he?" Rory asked.

'Still in surgery."

"Do we know anything more?"

Lorelai shook her head. "No, just what I told you."

Paris' pager began to beep next to them, and Rory looked over and watched her check her pager.

"Shit, they need me to go in," Paris said. "Are you alright to get back on your own?"

Rory nodded. "Yeah. Go save some people. That's good karma, right?"

Paris nodded resolutely. "It's definitely good karma."

"Thank you for driving me."

"Keep me updated, okay?"

Rory nodded. "I will."

Lorelai held onto Rory's arm tightly, like she was afraid she'd sink without her. They walked down the hallway toward the waiting room. She saw Emily sitting by herself, hands folded primly in her lap. She sat erect, back devoid of even the slightest curve.

"How is Grandma?" Rory asked quietly.

"She's your grandma," Lorelai said by way of answering.

"Rory, you didn't need to come," Emily said, standing up and giving her a light hug. "Don't you have work in the morning?"

"This is more important."

"You aren't missing anything important, are you? Your grandfather wouldn't want you to fall behind at work."

"I won't fall behind."

Emily nodded, sitting back down.

"Did you hear anything new, Mom?" Lorelai asked.

"No," Emily said shortly. "And don't even try to ask the women over at the reception desk. They're useless."

"They might not actually know anything, Mom," Lorelai said placatingly, sitting down.

"Not might. I know they don't. I asked them a simple question and they just stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language."

"Just try to relax, Mom. We'll know more soon enough."

Rory drummed her fingers on her knees, feeling a bit like waiting for grades at the end of a semester. The anticipation mixed with equal parts dread and hope. She felt her nerves pull tight, and she tried to distract herself in any way that she could, but she still felt the skip of her heart every time someone in a lab coat or scrubs walked into the waiting room. It happened several times before it was their turn.

"Are you Richard Gilmore's family?"

"Yes, we are," Emily said, somehow seeming to sit even straighter. "How is he? Can we see him soon?"

The physician paused, and that's when she knew. A pause never led to anything good. "The surgery was more difficult than we anticipated…"

* * *

Rory never knew that death came with so much paperwork. It seemed offensively clerical for such a devastating event. The hours following her grandfather's passing was filled with forms and signatures. First there was the autopsy authorization that allowed the hospital pathologists to determine her grandfather's cause of death. Then, there were the papers verifying his identity. Another signature went on a release form that authorized the transfer of his body from the hospital to whatever funeral home they chose to have him serviced. The paperwork seemed endless, Emily practically signing in rote at the end.

"I'm going to get us some coffee," Rory said.

"Do you need help carrying all of them?" Luke asked.

Rory shook her head. "No, I'll go to the cafeteria and get a carrier. I'll be fine."

If she were being honest, she wanted a moment alone. She still hadn't fully processed what happened, too intent on watching her mother, and then watching her mother watch her grandmother. Everyone was walking a tightrope of emotions, and she was determined to not fall off first. She rounded the corner toward the cafeteria, and stopped short when she saw Logan.

He was looking around, like he was lost, and she could tell he was looking for her by the way his shoulders settled when he saw her. He walked forward quickly, nearly taking down an orderly on his way.

"Logan, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came as soon as Paris called me."

"Paris called you?" Rory stammered, still not quite believing he was there. She hadn't realized how much she wanted him there - that she wanted him there at all, really - until she felt her chest release at the very sight of him.

"She said your grandpa was in the hospital. Since she couldn't be here she thought you might need someone. So, how is he?"

How is he?

It was such a simple question, and one that she no longer could answer. She was crying before she could get a word out, and then once she started it was impossible to stop. Her shoulders shook and she tried to cry more quietly, aware of the stares, but that only made her cry louder. Logan pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Let it out," he murmured, rubbing her back. "That's it, just let it out."

And let it out she did. She couldn't even remember the last time she cried this properly, probably the last time her grandpa was in the hospital, and when she was finished she felt a bit better. There still was a gaping hole in her chest, but at least her throat didn't feel tight anymore.

"I'm sorry about that," Rory said, wiping sheepishly at his sweater that was dotted with her tears and snot. "I'll wash this for you."

"No, thank you. I've seen you do laundry and I like this sweater."  
She laughed a bit, but it got caught in her throat. She grasped his arm lightly and admitted, "I'm really glad you're here. Thank you."

"There's nowhere I'd rather be."

 **A/N: I'd love your feedback!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

It was strange being back in her childhood bedroom. Everything was exactly how Rory remembered it, but she was seeing it with different eyes. These eyes were older, wiser (in theory) and, frankly, in need of a minor prescription. These eyes saw her through the start of the career for which she'd dreamt for years. They'd seen late nights with Paris and tense rides on the subway. They'd seen Lorelai ten years before. Emily ten years before. And she hoped, with all of her heart, that they would see both of them ten years from now, and then ten years from then, and ten years from then. And still, even with the whispered prayer for more years, Rory knew that those years wouldn't quite be what she'd hoped, because he wouldn't be there. Richard. The man who believed in her, even at her lowest and most lost.

There was a knock on her door and Lorelai walked in, closing the door quietly behind her as she said, "He's waiting out in his car, you know."

"Who?"

"Who do you think?" Lorelai asked, sitting down on the edge of Rory's bed. "That boy that you claim nothing is going on with."

"Logan," Rory murmured. "I told him to go home."

"And I believe you. But, he's still out there. I went out to bring him some cookies from the kitchen and he suddenly pretended to be pulling up directions on his phone."

"Aren't those cookies in the kitchen old?"

Lorelai shrugged. "It's the thought that counts." She reached forward and pushed Rory's hair away from her face. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Rory said. "I should be asking you that question. I mean, he was your dad."

"Yeah, he was. But, you two had a really special relationship. He was so proud of you, babe. You should have seen him when you first got your job at the New York Times. If someone could have imploded from pride, it would have been him."

Rory smiled sadly.

"Anyway, I came in here to tell you that I'm heading over to your grandma's."

"I thought she said she wanted to be alone tonight," Rory said.

"She did. But, since when have I ever listened?"

"It'll be good for you to be there," Rory said, pulling her knees into her chest. "Do you want me to come with?"

"No, you stay here," Lorelai said. "Maybe go out and talk to your stalker. Tell him that our bushes out front are available."

"I'm sure he'd be interested to learn that."

Lorelai leaned forward and kissed Rory's forehead. She stayed there for a moment, the day settling on her, and murmured, "We're going to be okay, kid."

"I know."

Lorelai headed out of Rory's bedroom and quickly gathered her things before heading out to the elder Gilmore house. Rory padded into the rec room and peered out the front window. Sure enough, Logan's car was parked out front. He'd moved it down one house, in a paltry attempt to make his presence unknown. Unfortunately, he'd parked in front of Babette's house, which landed him in an unexpected conversation with the rotund homeowner through his barely rolled down window.

Rory pulled on her jacket and headed outside, giving Babette a small wave as she approached. Her neighbor pulled back from Logan's car and immediately charged toward her, enveloping her in a tight hug. Babette smelled like warm cinnamon, and Rory found herself unintentionally melting into her.

"Oh, sugar, you must be just torn up right now," Babette said, chest heaving against Rory.

"I'm okay," Rory said.

"I saw your mom leave. Is Luke in there with you?"

Rory shook her head. "Mom told him to open the diner up for the night. She said she didn't want him to lose an entire night of business."

"That's your ma," Babette said, voice wavering. "Always thinking of others. Are you alone tonight? Because you shouldn't be alone at a time like this. You can come over here with me and Maury. We recorded one of those Agatha Christie stories!"

"He's actually here for me," Rory said, pointing toward Logan.

"Oh! Of course!" Babette said loudly. She glanced over at him and said, "I'm not going to lie, I sort of forgot you were there, sugar."

Logan gave her a strange look.

"Thank you, though," Rory said. "I appreciate the offer."

"You're like family, Rory. And family takes care of family. Well, anyway, I'll let you two get inside." Babette gave her another tight hug and told her, "That one was for Lorelai, okay? You give it to her from me."

"I will," Rory promised.

Rory walked around to the passenger door of Logan's car and slipped in. He watched her quietly as she put on her seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, if you're going to sit out here in your car all night we might as well take it somewhere."

"I was just heading out," he said, voice unconvincing.

"I know."

"But, I guess I can go for a short ride," he said, smiling slightly. "Where to?"

"Just start driving, we can decide as we go."

He nodded, turning the key in the ignition and shifting the car into drive. She watched him as he drove and said, "You know, you didn't have to stay. I really am fine."

"I know you are."

"Don't you have work in the morning?"

"That's the benefit of being your own boss," Logan returned. "You set your hours. And, coincidentally, my boss is having me start mid-morning tomorrow."

"How convenient."

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I don't care. Let's just drive."

He pulled away from her street, Stars Hollow laid out in front of them above the car's dashboard. She forgot how much she loved this town. It made her feel complete in a way she didn't even really realize she was missing in New York. She was happy enough there. She made a life for herself that anyone would be happy to have, but this was home.

"Does Molly know you're here," Rory asked, needing to reference the small red-headed elephant in the car.

"She does. I told her that about your grandpa. She said it was good for me to be here for you."

"That's nice of her to be so understanding."

"She's pretty nice. How's Rob?"

Rory thought of the several missed calls from him on her phone. She learned from Paris that he showed up at their apartment, wanting to apologize for the way he'd been on the phone. Paris told him that Richard was in the hospital and he'd immediately wanted to come to see Rory. Thankfully, Paris told him that Rory would only want to be with family. When Rory realized how much she didn't want him with her, she knew it was over. It probably should have been a while ago.

"We're breaking up."

"As in it's on-going?" he asked slowly.

"I haven't told him yet. Haven't really had time. But, it's the right decision. He's not – " she cut herself off before she finished the sentence. He's not what she wanted. He's not who she wanted to be sitting next to her in this car, driving aimlessly through her hometown. She felt such a sudden longing for Logan that it made her chest ache. "We weren't right for each other."

"I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. It was a long time coming. We're both better of this way. He can find someone who's really right for him, and I can do the same. Really, it was the right decision. The best decision. I'm…we both will be happier. Well, he might not be right off the bat, but he will be. He'll see that we weren't right for each other and this was the right thing to do. For both of us."

Logan paused for a moment and then said, "Are you finished? You paused a few times, so I couldn't tell."

"Yes," Rory said, a bit out of breath. "I am finished."

"That was quite the ramble."

"Yeah, I felt it happening and then I couldn't stop it."

He smirked. "If you really feel the way you said then it's better to end it. You don't want to lead him on."

"Exactly," she said curtly with a nod of her head. "It's actually sort of a relief. I spent so much time before trying to convince myself that it was working. It felt freeing to just admit that it wasn't."

Granted, that pile of lies had been replaced by an even larger one, namely the one arguing that she had only platonic feelings for the man squiring her around Stars Hollow, but he didn't need to know about that.

"We can just turn right up here," Rory said, gesturing toward the stoplight. It was the one in front of Luke's that was put in during her first year at Chilton.

"Where are we headed?" Logan asked.

"Back home."

He was quiet as he turned down the street, taking her soft directions as they drove. He pulled to a stop in front of her house and when she unbuckled her seatbelt she said, "You can come in, if you want. I can make us hot cocoa. My mom probably has some leftovers in the fridge we can raid. Depending on what they are, they might even be edible."

"I should probably head back," he said.

"Oh, right, sure," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. She wondered what had changed during the car ride. He'd been basically camped outside her house before. "Well, thanks for being here. It meant a lot to me."

"Just a friend helping out a friend."

His words stung.

"Well, I'll let you get on your way," she said.

He nodded, hand wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. "Night Ace."

"Good night, Logan."

She got out of the car and he called out, "Ace, wait."

She turned back, stomach twisted tightly, and said, "Yeah?"

He was looking at her expectantly, something clearly on his mind. He leaned forward in his seat, poised to say something, but then he drew back into his seat and murmured, "Never mind. I'll see you later."

"Okay."

She stepped back and watched him drive away. Something happened in that car. She didn't exactly know what, but something shifted. She felt it, and so had he. This day had too much in it. She needed to go to bed and have today end. She went back into the house and closed the door behind her. Luke was still out at the diner and the house was eerily quiet. She went into the kitchen for a glass of water. There was a knock on the door and she wondered if Luke forgot his key. Or it was Babette, or any other character from the town, checking up on her. She walked back to the foyer and opened the door, surprised to find Logan on the other side.

"Logan," she murmured in surprise. "What are you –"

He stepped forward, one hand bracing her jaw as he pressed his mouth to hers. She was startled initially, her entire body going still. But then his other hand found her waist and she leaned into him, her mouth moving against his. She'd missed this. God, she'd missed this. She missed him.

He pulled away, forehead pressed against hers as they both breathed raggedly. Her fingers grasped at the sleeve of his leather jacket, wanting to keep him close as possible. Her thoughts drifted to his girlfriend. She'd been here before, pressed against someone who belonged to someone else. It ended horribly for all parties involved. She stepped back, putting deliberate distance between them.

"You should go."

"Ace –"

"You have a girlfriend," she said. "A girlfriend who is sweet and understanding and who in no way deserves this. I technically still have a boyfriend."

"Do you really want me to leave?"

She stared at him helplessly and murmured, "Well, no, but –"

"Because I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave so badly that I was literally going to sleep in my car one house down so I could be near you. That's how badly I don't want to leave you, Ace."

"You have a girlfriend," she repeated slowly.

"Tell me you want me to stay," he said, stepping closer. "Just tell me you want me to stay. Tell me you want _me_ , and I'll be here. Forever. Whatever you need, I will be here."

"Logan-"

"I love you," he blurted out.

"What? Logan, you don't-"

"I do," he interrupted, taking a hold of her arms. "I love you, and I'm sorry for the timing. I know it's awful, but when Paris called me – I didn't just want to be there for you, I needed to be. I needed to be with you. I needed to be there and make sure that you were okay. I've never felt that way before about anyone else but you. It's always been you, Ace. No matter where I've been or where you've been, it has always been you. It _will_ always be you."

Rory blinked rapidly, trying to sort out her feelings. There she was, standing in her foyer on arguably one of the worst days in recent memory, maybe all of memory, and she was _happy_. She was deliriously, slap-yourself-happy and while she felt not a small amount of guilt at feeling such exhilaration on a decidedly terrible day, she knew Richard wouldn't hold it against her. All her grandfather ever wanted was for her to be happy. She could do that for him.

"You should move your car," she murmured.

"I should move my car?"

"You're parked in front of a fire hydrant," she said, gesturing toward his Porsche. "No real crime happens here, so you can imagine how excited the Stars Hollow PD gets over minor parking offenses."

She could see the hesitance on Logan's face. "Where should I move my car?"

"The driveway is fine," she said. "My mom probably won't be back until tomorrow morning. Luke can park his truck next to yours."

She could see the moment the gravity of what she said struck him. His shoulders relaxed and that trademark smirk took up its usual residence on his face.

"So, I'm staying."

She nodded, a smile creeping onto her face. "You're staying."

 **A/N: There will only be one chapter after this one. Would love to hear your thoughts on the reunion!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The streets in Stars Hollow were oddly familiar to Logan. They shouldn't have been, since he didn't venture there often while him and Rory dated, and he certainly hadn't been traipsing through her hometown in the five years they were separated. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd driven on these streets, yet they felt more inviting than the street his childhood home sat on in Hartford. It was because of her. Everything about her felt like home to Logan, even after they broke up. Being next to her again was like a warm memory come to life, and he couldn't get enough. He knew from that night when they tested out his app that they were both playing with fire. An attraction like theirs was too dangerous to be handled so cavalier, but they didn't know any other way. Their default was easy. Their fallback position was repartee and quips, always inching toward that unspoken line, but landing just short of it. The significant others helped. They kept both of them moderately in line, knowing there were other individuals who could get hurt beside themselves.

But then she told him that she was breaking up with Rob. He almost had to laugh at the resolute way in which she unilaterally decided to end the relationship. If Rob didn't respect her at least a little bit for that, he didn't deserve her. He'd immediately become distracted at the admission, half-listening to Rory's long-winded followup. Suddenly, driving aimlessly through the all-too-familiar streets of Stars Hollow, Logan had a problem. Half of the concrete reason for him and Rory getting back together was gone, and without that half, the remaining foundation was remarkably unsound. Because, he liked Molly but he didn't love her. He hadn't loved anyone since Rory, not even the one two years later that he thought he did. Everyone who came after didn't matter. They were placeholders until he could be in this car with her, barreling toward a future five years in the making.

And he was terrified.

"We can just turn right up here," Rory said, gesturing toward the stoplight.

"Where are we headed?" he asked. He could feel his nerves crackle at the duality of that question.

"Back home."

He turned at the light, leaving Luke's in the rearview mirror as they drove down the street. Logan reached over to the console and unnecessarily turned up the air conditioning. He saw Rory casually cross her arms over her chest as goosebumps rose on her skin, and he turned it back down.

He understood why Rory turned down his proposal. It took him a long time, but he did understand. Expecting her to give up the opportunity to report on the presidential campaign and come to San Francisco was irrational. She was just starting her career and she deserved the chance to explore those opportunities. She deserved the chance to be remarkable, which she was. He read every article. But still, even with all the understanding and wisdom that came with those five years, he'd never been able to shake the sinking feeling in his stomach when she gave him back the ring. He knew she hadn't actually rejected _him_ , but it felt a lot like she did.

She asked him to come in for hot cocoa and leftovers. It would have been the lamest proposition from anyone but her. It was her, though, so naturally his first instinct was yes. His first instinct was always yes with her, but then what happened next? He knew himself. If they went inside, this would just go farther, and he'd end up standing in front of her again, asking her to say yes, and then…he didn't know. That was the problem. He didn't know what she would do next, but recent history didn't bolster his confidence.

"I should probably head back," he said, his words solidifying his resolve to leave things as they were. He liked Molly enough, but not enough that she could hurt him. It was the perfect level of involvement.

"Oh, right, sure. Well, thanks for being here. It means a lot to me."

"Just a friend helping out a friend."

He hated himself.

"Well, I'll let you get on your way," she murmured, voice betraying the hurt that she tried so poorly to hide. She always had a terrible poker face. He wrapped his hand tighter around the steering wheel.

"Night Ace."

"Good night, Logan."

She climbed out of the car, and her empty space beside him physically hurt. Impulsively, he called out, "Ace, wait."

She spun back toward him, face open and unguarded as she said, "Yeah?"

He noticed that her hand gripped the strap of her purse so tightly that her fist actually seemed to tremble. He leaned forward, desperate to say something. Anything. But nothing seemed right. No words fit the side show happening in his head, so he drew back into his seat instead and murmured, "Never mind. I'll see you later."

"Okay."

She watched him drive away. He could feel her gaze all the way until he turned the corner. His chest felt empty, because his heart was back there with her. He had no say in the matter, even as he deliberately drove away. Ran away. He wanted to go back. He wanted to find words for whatever the mess in his head meant, and he wanted to share them with her. It was always her. He turned the car with a deliberate jerk.

He spent so much of his life running. Running from responsibility. Running from rejection. He knew what he was running from, but what was he actually running toward? He didn't have an answer before, but he did now.

He parked in front of the Gilmore house and clumsily left his keys in the ignition as he rushed out. He quickly ran back, plucked the keys from the ignition, and went up to the front door. He didn't hesitate before knocking on the door. She opened the door, and although he had just seen her minutes earlier, he took delight in the very sight of her.

"Logan," she murmured in surprise, "What are you –"

He silenced her with a kiss, wanting to communicate all the miscommunication between them without the fear of words getting in the way. She didn't kiss him back at first, but then she did. Everything was right. He pulled away for air, and he could see the gravity of what happened settle on her slim shoulders when she began to mention Molly. But, he would take care of that. He'd noticed the way Molly almost pitifully patted his arm after telling him to be with Rory after Richard passed. She knew. She was probably just waiting to see how long it would take him to figure it out. The answer was embarrassingly long.

"Do you really want me to leave?" he pressed.

"Well, no, but –"

"Because I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave so badly that I was literally going to sleep in my car one house down so I could be near you. That's how badly I don't want to leave you."

"You have a girlfriend."

"Tell me you want me to stay," he urged. "Just tell me you want me to stay. Tell me you want _me,_ and I'll be here. Forever. Whatever you need, I will be here."

"Logan-"

"I love you."

There it was. The truth they'd been dancing around since they met again in that coffee shop. He never stopped, and he told her so. He told her that she was it for him, and always had been. And then she was telling him something about being parked in front of a fire hydrant, and the Stars Hollow PD not being particularly busy.

"No real crime happens here, so you can imagine how excited the Stars Hollow PD gets over minor parking offenses."

"Where should I move my car?" he asked apprehensively. He suspected. He hoped. He would never assume.

"The driveway is fine," she returned softly, her voice caressing the words. "My mom probably won't be back until tomorrow morning. Luke can park his car next to yours."

"So, I'm staying?"

"You're staying."

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel her skin beneath his fingertips again, but they'd done enough for one night. Still, he felt himself drawn toward her. Unable to resist, he reached up and traced the curve of her cheek with her fingertips. She turned into his touch, eyes drifting shut. They broke apart when Luke's truck pulled up into the driveway. He scratched irritably at the back of his head and she murmured, "You need to end things with Molly and I have to Rob. Before anything happens, we need to make that right."

He nodded. "Okay."

She reached forward and took his hand in hers. "I don't mean anything by that. About us, I mean. I just –"

"No, you're right," he said, squeezing her hand. "They deserve the truth."

Luke came in the front door just as Rory dropped Logan's hand. He offered them both a quick greeting and then said, "Logan, you're going to want to move your car. The Stars Hollow PD might as well be renamed the parking violation department. It's all they do."

"Yeah, I was just going to move it."

"Are you staying the night?" Luke asked, trying to casually glance at Rory to ascertain her reaction and failing miserably.

"He's staying," Rory said. "I asked him to."

Luke nodded. "Okay, that's great. I'll just…" he hooked a thumb up toward the stairs, "…I'll be in your mom's and my room, if you need anything."

"Okay, thanks Luke."

Logan moved his car quickly, parking properly in front of the Gilmore house this time, and went back inside. Rory made the couch up for him, and as promised, they drank hot cocoa and ate some old pizza that Luke guessed was from earlier that week (although he cautioned that the constant rotation of refrigerator pizza leftovers made his guess uncertain). They stayed up well past midnight, watching reruns of _The West Wing_ on the television. She fell asleep against his arm, and he didn't move out of fear of waking her up. He just shifted enough on the couch to stretch out his legs and then rested his head against hers, letting sleep wash over both of them.

* * *

"They look nice," Lorelai said softly, referring to the tableau of her daughter and Logan snuggled on the couch. She'd curled almost entirely into him, one arm draped around his torso and face buried in his chest. His chin rested on the top of her head and his hand lightly gripped the arm tossed over him.

"I feel creepy," Luke said, handing Lorelai a cup of coffee.

"There's nothing creepy about it. We're basically chaperoning them right now."

"We're chaperoning your twenty seven year old daughter?" he asked.

"Okay, when you say it that way it does sound weird," she said, brushing past him into the kitchen.

"What do you mean when I say it that way it sounds weird? I said it the exact same way that you did," Luke said, following her into the kitchen.

Rory stirred, shifting against Logan as she came fully to the waking world. She tilted her head up and took in his sleeping face. She thought of the night before and smiled softly. She didn't think it was possible to wake up smiling after the day she'd had, but he made it possible. He made her worst day marginally less awful, and for that she could never thank him enough.

"Stop staring at me," he murmured.

"I-I'm not" she stammered in surprise. "I just looked at you. There's a difference."

His eyes drifted open. "It's too early for this conversation."

"You're the one who brought it up."

"How are you?" he asked, brushing some hair away from her face.

"I'm okay. Surprisingly okay."

"Good." He leaned down to kiss her, but she stopped him. "Right, sorry," he said. "Not yet."

"I don't want this to start that way," she said. "You understand, right?"

"Yes, I do," he said. "I'll call Molly today."

"And I'll call Rob," she said, pressing her head back against the couch cushion. "This is not going to be a pleasant conversation."

"I'll bring you donuts afterwards."

She laughed. "Thanks, but I'll be fine. I'm a grownup, I can do this."

"I never said you couldn't."

Rory wiped at her eyes wearily. "Can you hand me my phone, please?"

He grabbed it from the coffee table and handed it over to her. She quickly sent a text message to Rob, asking him to talk later that day. She dropped the phone into her lap and said, "Your turn."

"I'm already seeing Molly for lunch today. I'll break the news then."

Rory nodded, feeling sick to her stomach. "Be nice about it, okay?"

"I don't really think she'll be surprised," Logan said. "I talked about you a lot. Like, _a lot_."

She smirked. "A lot, huh?"

"Well, I'm sure you talked about me to Rob."

She shook her head. "Never."

"Wait, seriously? You never talked to Rob about me?"

"Nope. He was jealous of Kirk once after hearing me talk about one of our festivals. So, I generally avoided other males in stories after that."

Logan smirked. "He was jealous of Kirk? Has he met Kirk?"

"No. I never was able to get him to Stars Hollow. Something would always come up."

"Well, it's his loss," Logan said. "Kirk is basically a national treasure."

Rory nodded solemnly and returned, "I'd agree with that."

"I thought I heard that you two were up," Lorelai said, walking into the living room. "We have donuts and coffee in the kitchen. Help yourselves."

* * *

The conversation with Rob went about as well as Rory thought it would. There were no plates smashed or heart-filled-tirades, but he did leave her with the parting line, "I deserve someone who deserves me. You clearly don't."

Paris overheard that part and threw a handful of gold painted macaroni from her craft table at him on his way out. Rory knew that at least part of her should feel marginally bad about how things ended with Rob, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Because somewhere across town Logan was waiting for her and he'd been waiting for a long time. They both had.

She didn't hear from Logan for the rest of the day, but she didn't worry. She could still feel the warmth of his gaze. She always loved the way he looked at her. He'd get this sort of half smile, like her very existence was a puzzle he'd just figured out. No one else looked at her that way.

Rory went into work the next day. She offered to stay back in Stars Hollow and help with the funeral planning, but Emily refused, insisting that Richard would want her at the paper not toiling over flower arrangements. She got into work later than normal, the morning commute slammed from some accident down on Fifth street. When she finally trudged into her office, tossing her bag on her chair, there were already several messages flashing on her machine. She pressed the button for them to play on the machine and swore under her breath as she searched frantically for a pen amongst the mess of papers on her desk. Her editor's voice filled the small cubicle, going on about a new assignment.

"Aha! There you are!" Rory said triumphantly, plucking a pen from under a large stack of court documents.

The next message was the secretary of a politician that she called the week prior, telling her that this particular state representative was booked up for the next month, and unable to talk with her. Rory shook her head and murmured, "Bad move, buddy. Anything you would have said couldn't be worse than the big fat 'no comment' that'll be in there now."

The message ended and a familiar voice filled the office. Rory froze, her heart going like a wind-up toy at the sound of his voice.

"Hi Ace. It's me. Logan. Although, you probably already knew that. Anyway, as you might know, I'm in town." She grinned at the parallel to another message he'd left years ago. "I'm in town sort of indefinitely, actually. That app you wrote about really picked up. Wired magazine even put us as one of the tech startups to watch. Not to brag. Okay, that was a little bragging. Anyway, successful tech startups get pretty good lunch breaks, and I was hoping I could take you out during yours today. I'll even treat. Give me a call, okay?"

The call ended and Rory's mind whirred in the silence. She imagined that lunch, and the ones that would come after. The life that she'd denied herself because of her pride and her fear of ending up hurt like before. She let her judgment become clouded by doubt and fear and a host of other negative emotions that made comfortable bedfellows. No more.

She called back immediately.

 **A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. It was an absolute joy to write and share with you all.**


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